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<title>Day 19 - Baking by marvel_and_mischief</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169034">Day 19 - Baking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief'>marvel_and_mischief</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>December Writing Challenge [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pedro Pascal - Fandom, The Mentalist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A swear word, F/M, otherwise pure fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_and_mischief/pseuds/marvel_and_mischief</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus insists on having a baking day with you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marcus Pike/Reader, Marcus Pike/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>December Writing Challenge [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day 19 - Baking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marcus had taken the day off for this. He wanted a day with you to relax before the hectic Christmas shifts the two of you would be working. You could have stayed in bed all day, or gone for a walk, or had yourself a date night but no, Marcus wanted to bake.</p><p>“It calms me down. Put some music on and come and help me,” Marcus pouted, his large doe eyes making it hard to say no to him. </p><p>You followed him into the kitchen, catching the apron he threw at you and tying it around your waist. Marcus wore one too, you bit your lip when you saw it was the joke gift his brother had given him for Christmas last year that said <em>‘kiss the chef’</em> in big red letters. </p><p>“You want to?” Marcus asked with a smirk, noting your eyes on his apron.</p><p>“Maybe,” you replied suggestively, coming to stand between him and the breakfast island. Marcus caged you against it, lips almost touching yours but not quite.</p><p>“You can kiss the chef when the cookies are baked,” and with that Marcus pushed himself away from you, snickering as he busied himself with getting ingredients out of the fridge. </p><p>You sighed in mock frustration and walked over to the cupboards to collect the rest of the ingredients. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist kissing you for that long, and you made it your personal mission to prove him wrong. </p><p>You worked side by side, like you did when you were making the evening meal together, a well oiled machine of passing over what the other needed, or reaching over to drop a few more chocolate chips into the mixture while Marcus’ back was turned.</p><p>Marcus spent ten minutes hiding the cookie cutters behind his back or in draws he wouldn’t let you reach. It was then you swooped in, distracting him with a kiss that left him longing for more whilst you silently opened the draw behind him and took out the Christmas tree shaped cutters. Before he noticed what was going on, you had ran to the other side of the island, holding up the offending objects.</p><p>“Shit,” Marcus exclaimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I’m a terrible agent.”</p><p>“Yeah,” you agreed, laughing at his forlorn expression, “is that how you let criminals get away?”</p><p>“Only the hot ones,” Marcus mumbled, purposefully loud enough so you could hear him. </p><p>You guffawed, grabbing a tea towel and throwing it at his head, which he easily caught with a wink. </p><p>Waiting for the cookies to bake in the oven, the two of you assumed positions at the sink, Marcus washing up and you drying, occasionally having to duck when he flicked you with soapy water. These small moments of domesticity reminded you why you chose to marry him in the first place. He made the most mundane tasks exciting, the boring household chores were fun because of Marcus and his inability to take anything seriously with you.</p><p>Waiting for the cookies to cool down on the side, you and Marcus sipped on glasses of wine at the dining table. </p><p>“I wish we could have more days like this,” you confessed, the smell of freshly baked cookies making you impatient for the decorating stage. </p><p>“I felt silly suggesting the baking,” Marcus laughed self-consciously, reaching over the table to hold your hand, “I thought it was childish.”</p><p>“No it’s not, it’s fun, it’s <em>bonding</em>,” you assured him, topping up your wine glasses, “also, y’know,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling apprehensive about voicing your thoughts, “it’s practise, for the future.”</p><p>Marcus’ eyebrows raised and his face lit up at the suggestion of what the future may hold for you both.</p><p>“Yeah?” Marcus tentatively asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.</p><p>You smiled coyly, shrugging again. “Someday,” you promised, a nervous giggle escaping your lips. </p><p>“Well then, Mrs Pike,” Marcus confidently stood up and held his hand out towards you, “next step is decorating the cookies, and we have to get it right if we’re going to impress any future little Pike’s.”</p><p>You laughed heartily, excitedly taking his hand and letting him lead you back into the kitchen, giddy with happiness and heart full with an over abundance of love.</p>
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